


Professional and Personal Esteem

by zetsubonna



Series: All American Bicycle [3]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Adorable Sam Wilson, Condoms, Dom Sam Wilson, Everyone Is Poly Because Avengers, Flirting, Hook-Up, M/M, Mentions of Natasha Romanoff/James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers/Sam Wilson, Oral Sex, Sam Wilson's Peerless Gaydar, Sapiosexual Crush, Steve Rogers is a Troll, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-25
Updated: 2015-11-17
Packaged: 2018-02-26 23:40:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2670719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zetsubonna/pseuds/zetsubonna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Somebody was like, "Dude. DUDE. Rhodey and Sam should hit on each other."</p><p>And I was like, "I can do that."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit, Steve. Holy shit."

"What’s with you?"

"Do you know him? Please tell me you know him."

"Ow," Steve complained, pulling his arm out of Sam’s grasp. "Yes, I know Colonel Rhodes. Why?"

"Because reasons," Sam huffed, exasperated. "Introduce me, you idiot."

"Okay, okay, jeez. You know, if I were the jealous kind of fella," Steve waved at Rhodey, who immediately lit up and waved back, beckoning him over.

"Evening, Colonel," Steve began, trying not to laugh at how excited Sam was. "I was wondering-"

"You’re Sergeant Wilson," Rhodey was saying, before Steve could even finish his thought. "I’m a big fan."

Steve was very proud of being able to tell when Sam was blushing. He was totally blushing.

"Same, sir." He didn’t sound like he was blushing, but he was totally blushing. It was adorable. "I’ve kept up on your publications where I can. Your last declassified essay on the practical application of multi-part urban three-sixty recon pursuit was one of the best things I’ve ever read."

Okay, now  _Rhodey_  was blushing. Steve’s night was complete.

"That’s not fair," he complained. "You haven’t written anything since you rotated out, I’ve got no answer for that."

"Whereas I’ve read every declassified thing you’ve published since your graduate thesis," Sam replied smoothly. "Your portfolio’s a lot thicker than mine, sir."

"You outmatch me in ribbons, though," Rhodey noted. "Buy you a drink?"

"Excellent." Sam was beaming.

"Why is  _your_  boyfriend flirting with  _my_  Rhodey?” Tony growled at Steve. “Nobody even knows he goes that way.”

Steve glanced at Tony when Sam made Rhodey laugh. Again. “Sam has the best sixth sense for ‘interested’ I’ve ever encountered. What’s your issue?”

"Why aren’t you mad? You should be mad. I’m mad, and he’s not even-" Tony trailed off, his scowl deepening.

"Open relationship." Steve shrugged. "Anyway, look at them and tell me it isn’t a  _really_ _good_  mental image.”

"Okay, hold up." Tony raised both of his hands. "How are you even real? You’re ninety-six and you’re in an  _open relationship_.”

"How are you real, Stark?" Steve sipped his ginger ale, tucking his hand into his pocket. "You’re forty-four, and you’re supposed to be the personification of the oncoming future. Yet somehow every time you learn something new about my personal life, your brain gets another crack in it."

"You are literally old enough to be my dad," Tony folded his arms over his chest. "You were born in the same year. What even is this?"

"The kids call it ‘bisexual polyamory,’" Steve quipped. "I’d tell you to give it a shot, but I’m pretty sure Miss Potts would set you on fire."

"We fixed that," Tony muttered.

"She can still get matches," Steve reminded him. "And she knows where you sleep. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ve waited long enough, and now I’m going to try and hint really hard that a threesome isn’t out of the question and hope Rhodey goes for it."

"More information than I ever needed!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An anon requested that the "threesome" hinted at in earlier works be captured here, except- I didn't do that.
> 
> I did this instead.
> 
> Note: This is a Barbershop Quartet 'verse, so Nat/Sam/Bucky/Steve are an open poly quartet. Steve and Nat are usually the ones who go elsewhere, but the other two have the option, of course. Sam is taking his option. Steve knows when to get out of the way.

"I don't usually-" Rhodey began, but found himself cut off by Sam's mouth on his own, and returned the kiss even though it made his head spin.

"I can go," Steve offered, amused, standing a good three feet back. "I really just wanted to see that. I'm good."

"Shut up, Steve," Sam muttered, rucking Rhodey's undershirt and polo shirt midway up his chest.

Rhodey was blinking, pleased but somewhat dazed. "I'm not even sure what I'm in for, here."

"Sam always has a plan," Steve said proudly, taking a long sip from his large glass of water. "I got no idea what it is, though."

"You're single, I'm assuming." Sam was intent on uncovering Rhodey’s torso, and following that up with kisses.

Rhodey gave Sam's full lips and amazingly ticklish beard a further dazed look. "Yeah, sure. At the moment. Yes."

"This's mostly a hook up," Sam advised him. "And it's not really even that, if nobody's got-"

"Bathroom," Rhodey interrupted. "Medicine cabinet."

"On it," Steve said, pleased, setting his water carefully on the counter of Rhodey’s open kitchen and then following Rhodey's vague hand gesture down the hall.

Sam pushed Rhodey down on the sofa. "I'm thinking I'm gonna blow you. You want Steve helping or outside? He's obnoxious as fuck when he's watching."

"It's cold out," Rhodey said, scraping his own bottom lip with his teeth as he watched Sam unbuckle his belt. "Define 'obnoxious.' Running commentary?"

"Nah. Flusters. Can't talk. Whines. Wants to jerk off," Sam explains, sitting back, peeling out of his own shirt. "Lights?"

The hall light was still on, but nothing else was. The blinds let in a little bit from the street, but it wasn't full-on at all. Rhodey squirmed into the sofa.

"This is good. I'm good. I mean, if you are."

“M'good," Sam assured him, stretching, rolling his neck. "Nice sofa. Comfy?"

Rhodey shoved the throw pillows until the small of his back was propped up enough to let him see. "Yeah. Jesus. Uh-"

"Not often," Sam said, amused. "Maybe four times, including you and Cap."

"Short list," Rhodey concluded, clearly starting to fluster himself.

"It is. Don't steer, don't rush me. Okay?"

Rhodey licked his lips and wished vaguely he'd gotten himself water when he was getting it for Steve. "Got it."

Steve came back with the box of condoms and Rhodey's bottle of mouthwash, chewing his bottom lip and settling everything on the coffee table. Sam glanced at him, nodding, and Rhodey swallowed thickly.

"Need anything else?" Steve asked.

Sam snorted softly and gestured to Steve's glass of water. "Good. Now, get out. You throw off my rhythm."

"Can I-" Steve began, handing Sam the glass. Sam rolled his eyes at Rhodey, grinning as he sipped the water first, then handed it to him.

"Yeah. Go do it in the bathroom. Don't make a mess."

Steve shivered, grinning, shrugged, and ducked back down the hallway.

Rhodey blinked at Sam owlishly for a moment over the water glass, then drank from it, trying not to laugh and failing by the time he set it down on the coffee table.

Sam was flexing his fingers and unbuttoning his jeans, though he left them up around his hips, just gaining himself a little more room to move.

"You got him wrapped around your finger, huh?" Rhodey asked.

"Nah," Sam denied. "But he knows himself. Hair goddamn trigger. Probably the only downside, honestly."

“That’s a relief,” Rhodey murmurs, gesturing for Sam to come up for more kisses. “Didn’t think I could get off with Captain America watching.”

“Nobody can,” Sam assured him, snickering as he moved upward. “That’s why I kicked him out.”

“You probably manage fine,” Rhodey said, low, between kisses. Sam tasted like whiskey and Coke.

“Yeah, well,” Sam pushed his thigh between Rhodey’s until he got the grind he wanted. “I got confidence for the gods. I picked up War Machine at a party.”

Rhodey chuckled into Sam’s grin, and they rocked against each other on the sofa for a little while longer, taking their time, listening to each other’s heavy breathing.

“Music?” Rhodey offered, when Sam’s kisses started moving down the side of his neck.

Sam grunted his approval, snickering quietly when Rhodey’s fingers finished clicking his phone and dropped it on the table.

“What?” Rhodey asked, starting to chuckle himself.

“Game I play. Guess a guy’s bi stats by the first track on his get down playlist,” Sam said, still snickering.

“And?” Rhodey was intrigued. He cut the Al Green up a little louder when he realized he could hear Steve running the bathroom’s outtake fan.

“Seventy-thirty,” Sam proposed, his fingers starting to skirt close to Rhodey’s navel.

“Eighty-five fifteen,” Rhodey corrected, adjusting his hips eagerly. “But very close.”

“Marvin Gaye,” Sam countered. “What do you think?”

“You’re seventy-thirty,” Rhodey said, low, nodding in approval, pushing his hips up again when Sam’s fingers teased just under the waistband of his shorts.

“Seventy-five twenty-five, more or less,” Sam said, tugging down on Rhodey’s khakis and boxers when he lifted his hips, glancing up at him and smirking again. “Mm, almost never civvies, though.”

“Almost always,” Rhodey said, shrugging, settling back again, and finding the spot he’d picked out. “And mostly just a lot of looking, not a whole lot else.”

“Well, mm,” Sam sat back, studying his position, then leaned forward to reach for the condom box, rocking into it on his knees when Rhodey started sucking and lightly biting on the juncture of his neck and shoulder. “You’re higher up the chain, so you get higher scrutiny. Good?”

“Should be,” Rhodey confirmed. “Smell good. Wearing anything?”

“Not cologne,” Sam said, clearly pleased. “Gonna help me out?”

“Sure you’re okay up here?” Rhodey asked, holding his cock so Sam could roll the condom over it, his breath catching a little at the sensation. “We could get down on the floor, you know.”

“Gonna try this first,” Sam said, looking him over. “You look real relaxed. Kinda had it this way in my head.”

“Whatever you say,” Rhodey half-closed his eyes, grinning. “Ain’t about to argue with a volunteer.”

Rhodey pushed his head back into the pillows and inhaled sharply when Sam’s mouth started to come down around his cock. Sam bore most of his own weight on his belly and forearm. Rhodey’s left forearm went across his eyes while his right hand gripped the back of the sofa.

“Holy _shit_ ,” he groaned softly. “Jesus _Christ_. Don’t- don’t waste any time, do you?”

Sam choked softly with laughter, pulling back. “Don’t,” he warned. “I’m not trying to go out inhaling latex.”

“Sorry,” Rhodey mumbled, adjusting his hips, grinning under his arm. “Just, nn. Damn, your mouth is _hot_.”

“Should let Steve do it some time,” Sam mused. “He doesn’t have a gag reflex.”

Rhodey shivered at the thought, moaning softly when Sam’s mouth started to work down around him again. The hand not holding Sam up curled around the base of Rhodey’s cock and helped Sam pump it into his mouth. Sam’s rushing breath was steamy and ticklish on Rhodey’s stomach, and Rhodey was vaguely aware of Sam grinding into the couch as he pulled back enough to let his lips and tongue work against the head of Rhodey’s cock.

He tried to stammer out a helpful offer to return the favor, but before he could speak, Sam’s mouth was almost all the way down the shaft of his cock, throat constricting around the head, and his warm, practiced hand was moving over Rhodey’s balls in way that was completely antithetical to coherent thought.

Sam moved back up again, squeezing and sucking, pushing his tongue solidly and steadily into Rhodey’s frenulum, making wet sounds, humming with enthusiasm that reverberated up Rhodey’s spine and made him strain to keep from thrusting, especially when Sam’s rhythm sped up, and up, and his grip got hotter and firmer, until Rhodey was clenching his teeth together and coming, quietly. He needn’t have worried. Sam held his hips down.

“Hell, Wilson,” Rhodey managed, his mouth dry, his hand coming down from his face to blindly search for the water glass. “You got a _talent_.”

“Helps that I was doing it more for me than you,” Sam said, though he couldn’t help the smug look on his face. “Something like an overachiever.”

“Something like it,” Rhodey agreed, passing him the water, starting to ease the condom off with shaking fingers. “Spit it back if you want, after you rinse. Could use it for the mouthwash, too.”

Sam swallowed, then poured some of the mouthwash into his mouth from the bottle, starting to swish it through his teeth as he carefully made his way off the couch, his jeans still unfastened and showing off his hipbones. Rhodey couldn’t help watching him as he carried the glass toward the kitchen, going in and spitting into the sink, then rinsing his mouth out with the water again.

“Don’t have to worry about me either,” Sam said, starting to stretch his neck again. “Have to let Cap know he’s still my favorite.”

“Are you two exclusive?” Rhodey asked. “I mean, usually?”

“No,” Sam said, amused. “Well, sort of. Steve texted everybody who needs to know as soon as I cut him loose.”

Rhodey laughed softly, relaxing back into the sofa, his eyes slipping closed. “So, one off?”

“We’ll see,” Sam said, leaning on the kitchen archway, smiling. “I know where to get your number.”


End file.
